


Unsteady

by DiscoveringEm, WhatTheF0x



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Derek cares, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, Hallucinations, M/M, Scott McCall is a Bad Friend, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Undiagnosed PTSD, post-season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-03 18:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13347318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscoveringEm/pseuds/DiscoveringEm, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatTheF0x/pseuds/WhatTheF0x
Summary: After the events of season 3, Stiles never fully recovered from the power of the nogitsune's possession. After being turned away and denied by his friends, he seeks comfort in the most unlikely of places. There will be explicit sex in later chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I will be adding more tags as they arise in chapters.

It was deafening. The wails filled the silence of the night that was otherwise unbroken except by the occasional rumble of a passing car. Sobs grew and grew until the level of anguish was such that no more sound could be produced. But unlike all the other times, there were no sudden, blindingly bright lights and strong arms to hold the tortured soul until there was relative calmness and silent tears. Stiles forgot his dad was called in earlier in the night for work. There was nothing to calm him. No one to help him count fingers--there were alway more than ten fingers in dreams. Always. His fingers clawed at his hair, pulling, trying to grab onto some form of harsh reality, if this was even reality itself. It was all too real--it was real, was it? It was his fault either way, everything always was. He was panting as if he ran straight through a marathon, his heart pounding way too fast. The walls were closing in around him. The room was too small. The street lamp’s light that was pouring into his room was too bright. Stiles was trapped. It was too much.

***

“Stiles? Stiles where are you?” Sheriff called out before his heavy footsteps carried around the house as he looked for Stiles. It was just after three in the morning that he had finally returned from the call he received dragging him away from home earlier that night. He had went in to check that Stiles was actually asleep and not on that damned laptop given it was a school night, but he found the bed empty, sheets and blankets in a tangled and mangled mess from obvious thrashing had him searching the house for his son. A soft whimper caught his attention as he passed his own bedroom door. Walking in he saw no evidence of Stiles, but in the calm, he heard soft cries coming from the closet. Opening the door, Sheriff spotted two pale, bare feet sticking out from among the darkness. “Oh kiddo.” He kneels on the ground, placing a hand on Stiles’ foot. “You haven’t done this in a long time.”

Stiles stilled for a moment to look up and try to focus on his dad in the darkness. He jumped forward into his dad’s arms before bursting out, stuttering, half-yelling. “I saw them. I saw her death. I saw it all. Everyone. Everything. It was so real. It is real. I don’t--I don’t know what’s going on. I thought it was gone. I thought it was dead. It can’t be back!”

Sheriff shushed his babbling, shaking son. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll all be okay.” He rocked them ever so slightly until Stiles had fallen silent with only a few tremors every now and then.

***

“So I thought I’d take Kira to that new place that just opened up over on Oleander Street tonight,” Scott said after slipping his backpack on.  
Stiles head shot up so quickly he nearly caught his head on the shelf in his locker. “Tonight? But I thought we were hanging out tonight because things finally have calmed down?”

“But Kira’s family is heading out of town for the long weekend since there isn’t school tomorrow and I wanted to take her out before they left. You understand right?”

Stiles nodded slowly, his face falling a bit. Scott didn’t seem to notice as he started to turn, “Thanks dude. We’ll hang out another night, I promise.” and with that he disappeared around the corner of the hallway.

“Yeah. Like last time. And the time before that. And the time before that.” Stiles slammed his locker shut, turning around as he saw a face he had prayed he would never see again in his life. The mouth, formed into a horrible smirk, was the only bit ripped open from a face wrapped in gauze. “No.” Stiles dropped his bag on the ground backing up into the wall of lockers, sliding down. “No no no no no. It was a dream. I’m dreaming.” 

“Stiles?”

Stiles’ head slowly looked upwards to see Lydia standing over him, concern on her face. He looked back to where he swear he saw it, only to find students rushing past on their way out for the three-day weekend. It was gone. He glanced at his hands to count his fingers-ten. There were ten. 

“Stiles, why are you on the floor?” Lydia asked, confusion on her face.

Stiles looked up again and took in a shaky breath. “I saw it. It was standing right there.” Lydia raised an eyebrow. “It...uh...the nogitsune.” He stuttered out. 

“It was looking at me.”

“Stiles, Scott and Kira killed it. You’re just seeing things, it isn’t real. I would have sensed it if it was here. You’re probably just tired, given those bags under your eyes.” Lydia tried to reason.

“Yeah. Probably.”

“Go home and get some sleep this weekend. I’ll see you Monday.” Lydia said, turning and sauntering down the hall towards the exit.

“But sleep is the last thing I want.” Stiles mumbled, glancing back to the empty spot where the nogitsune had been standing, almost as if it was waiting for something.

***

Stiles was driving home when it happened. It seemed normal for any other trip home from school. He was about to pull into the left hand turn lane when he glanced into the rearview mirror, and staring back from the back seat, was the smirking, pale face of himself--the void version of himself.

Stiles screamed, turning around in his seat to look at the back seat to find it empty. He whipped his head back around to face the road only to find him going head on towards another vehicle. Stiles swerves out of the way, clipping the side mirror of the car he almost collided with head on. An angry horn follows Stiles as he slams on the breaks, breathing hard and shaking. “Oh god. Oh bad.”

Looking into the rearview mirror again, he noticed that not only is it a black camaro, but a very pissed off Derek stepped out of it. A Derek who obviously didn’t notice that it was Stiles in the jeep. Stiles could clearly hear Derek yelling about what he’s going to do to the “bastard that almost smashed his camaro.” Stiles started shaking more, and against his best efforts, a few tears fell.

“Stiles?” A face is suddenly at the window, except it wasn’t Derek. The masked and hooded figure of one of the Oni stood there. Stiles jumped as another scream escaped. He threw his head down covering his ears, eyes screwed shut, rocking in his seat. Stiles isn’t even aware as the door is wrenched open. He flinched when a hand is placed on his shoulder. “Stiles, what is wrong?”

“It’s a dream. This isn’t real.” Stiles chanted, still rocking back back and forth with his hands over his ears. 

“Stiles you need to look at me.” It was Derek’s voice, but that wasn’t Derek that Stiles saw. 

“You’re not real!” Stiles yelled, suddenly turning his head to look at what he thought was the oni only to see Derek standing there with a confused and concerned look on his face. “I need to get out. The seat belt is choking me. I can’t get enough air. I need to get out.” Stiles stammered out. 

Derek was quick to reach over the shaking boy to unbuckle him and pull him out of the jeep. He helped Stiles sit down, leaning against the tire. Derek only then became aware that they were still in the middle of the road, so he grabbed Stiles’ arm, hauled him up, and briskly walked him over to the side of the road and under a small tree growing next to the sidewalk. He gently sat Stiles back down and crouched in front of him. “Stiles. What’s wrong? What did you see?”

“This is a dream. This is a dream.” Stiles gasped.

Derek ran a hand through his hair. “Stiles, this isn’t a dream. I’m real.”

“Count your fingers! More than ten. You have to have more than ten fingers. More than ten is a dream. Count your fingers.”

Derek slowly lifted his hands in front of Stiles’ wide eyes. “One.” He lifted one finger up. “Two.” A second finger joined the first. “Three. Four.” Derek counted slowly, lifting up each finger allowing Stiles to confirm it. When he reached ten and held up his open palms in front of Stiles looked up at him.

“No. You must have miscounted. This has to be a dream. Count again. This isn’t real.” Stiles shook his head again and again.

Derek proceeded to count his fingers again. Only to have Stiles make the same claim. He took a deep breath. “Stiles, count with me, okay?”

Stiles barely nodded his head, eyes unblinking as they stared at Derek’s hands.

“One. Two. Three. Four.” They counted together until they reached ten. Stiles reached out with a shaky hand and traced a finger down the side of Derek’s hand, from the tip of his pinky to wrist, to make sure there wasn’t another finger hiding. He swallowed and looked up before, still breathing hard, and launched himself at Derek, knocking him off his feet and onto his butt on the ground. Stiles’ body trembled as he cried.

“You were an oni. And I was in the back seat of the jeep as the nogitsune. And then both were gone. And the nogitsune was at school. Wasn’t it dead? Scott and Kira killed it. Why isn’t it gone Derek? Why is it still here?” Stiles cried into Derek’s shoulder. 

Derek sighed softly. “Why didn’t you tell Scott or Lydia?”

“Because Scott is busy with Kira and Lydia didn’t believe me. Please don’t tell me it’s back.”

“It’s okay. Let’s get you somewhere else where you’ll feel more safe, okay?” Derek started to move his hand to gently pry Stiles off of his body, but that only caused Stiles to latch on tighter. Derek glanced around to see if they were causing a scene.

“No. Not yet.” Stiles tightening his grasp more. After a few minutes Stiles pulled his head away and looked up at Derek with red eyes and tears sliding down his face.“You know, it’s easier to comfort someone if you put your arms around them.” He chuckled slightly.

Derek sighed. But hesitantly wrapped an arm around Stiles back, and placed his other hand on the back of Stiles’ head when it returned to his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay Stiles.” He murmured, hoping that the tremors in Stiles would soon stop.

***

“Stiles we need to get you home. It’s been twenty minutes and my legs are cramping. How about I drive you home and call a tow to bring your jeep home, alright?” Derek glanced down, noticing that Stiles’ grip on him had gone limp. Derek listened to the slowed heartbeat and breathing. Derek gently pushed Stiles’ head to the side and observed the relaxed facial expression, the way his eyelashes sat against his cheeks--Derek shook his head forcing away where that thought was going. Stiles was pack and nothing more. A pack was only as strong as its weakest member, and right now the weakest member was obviously pretty damn near broken. If no other pack member was willing to help, Derek would because the pack would crumble soon enough if no one did.

“Alright human, let’s get you home.” Derek mumbled as he laid Stiles down in order for him to stand up. Once standing he lifted the sleeping boy into his arms before walking over to the camaro, shuffling a bit to get his hand free, then placing Stiles into the car. “You must be exhausted” Derek mumbles, pulling his phone out to call a tow truck.

While he waited, he listened to the soft sounds Stiles made in his sleep. He watched him as he stirred a bit in his sleep, but didn’t wake. When the tow arrived, Derek gave the driver the directions then said he’d meet him there. He slipped into the camaro and drove Stiles home, thankful to see the Sheriff’s car in the drive as he parked on the street. 

“What happened?” Sheriff questioned when he answered the door to find Derek carrying his sleeping son.

“Panic attack while driving. Almost crashed into me. He uh, fell asleep while I helped him calm down so I’d paid for his jeep to be towed here while I drove him back.” Derek walked through the door when the Sheriff moved to allow Derek in. He deposited the sleep mumbling Stiles onto the sofa.  
Sheriff let out a long sigh glancing from his son to Derek. “Thank you Derek, for calming him down and driving him back.”

“Is everything alright with him?”

Sheriff led Derek into the kitchen, pouring them both a cup of coffee. They sat at the table in silence for a few long moments, sipping their coffee not wanting to talk about the sleeping elephant in the living room. Sheriff let out a long sigh. “I don’t know what is wrong. He’s been having night terrors or nightmares for the past several nights and I found him last night in the corner of my closet--something he hasn’t done since Claudia died. What happened today to cause the panic attack?”

“I found Stiles after he almost crashed into me in near hysteria, screaming that this was just dream. After getting him out of the car and onto the ground, he told me that he saw his void self in his back seat and saw me as the oni. He also said he saw the nogitsune at school.”

Sheriff ran a hand through his hair. “I thought this would end when they killed the nogitsune.”

“I would have assumed the same. I can talk to Deaton to see what he recommends. He would have a better idea than--” Derek offered only to be interrupted by a voice calling out from the living room.

“Dad?”

“I’m coming Stiles!” Sheriff stood up from the table. “Thank you again for getting him back home Derek.”

***

“Derek, you know I run a veterinary practice and I’m with a patient.” Deaton continued to feel along the dog’s belly, eyes never leaving the dog.

“I wouldn’t interrupt you unless it was important.” Derek stood from the corner, arms crossed over his chest.

“And what is of such importance?” Deaton lifted his eyes to look at Derek.

“It’s Stiles.”

“And?”

“He’s seeing the nogitsune. He apparently has been having nightmares and terrors since the whole ordeal. He saw me as an oni at one point. If it was killed, why is he still being affected so heavily? I figured he’d go back to being his sarcastic, obnoxious self.”

“Well,” Deaton turned back to the dog on the table. “After an ordeal like that, being the cause of several deaths, not to mention his own torment, can leave a person with mental scars from trauma. If you think of the Vietnam War and how many veterans returned with posttraumatic stress disorder from the experience they went through, or any person in such a highly traumatic situation, it can affect them.”

“So you’re saying Stiles has PTSD?”

“I’m saying it’s possible.”

“Then what do we do?” Derek pushed himself away from the wall to walk around the table to face the vet.  
Deaton met his eyes. “Those with PTSD often went through therapy, sometimes only barely being able to cope with the stressors and triggers--”

“How the hell would we be able to find a therapist who can would be able help with PTSD caused by supernatural means?”

“The pack needs to be there for Stiles right now. Help ground him in reality. Be patient with him.” Deaton pulled his gloves off, walking over to a cabinet. He lifted an object and turned to face Derek, showing him a small chain, his finger tapping a link that was dented and cracked. “The pack is only as strong as its weakest member.” Deaton pulled on the chain, and the link snapped and the chain broke apart.

***

Stiles paced the living room while his father was upstairs changing. He was on edge all weekend and now that he was returning to school, he didn’t want to go. His dad was still uneasy about letting him drive after the incident on Thursday and Stiles, as much as he loved his jeep, agreed. When he heard heavy footsteps falling down the stairs, he turned around. “Do you have to work after school and tonight?”

“If I could, I would stay home with you.” Sheriff shoved his wallet into his pocket grabbing his phone. “Why don’t you ask Scott to come round with you after school and do whatever it is you two do?”

“Scott probably has plans with Kira. He always has plans with Kira. He has kind of forgot that he has a best friend.” Stiles scuffed his toe on the floor.  
His dad reached for the doorknob so they could leave the house. “And Lydia?”

“She doesn’t believe me.” Stiles followed out to the car and climbed into the passenger side.

“She doesn’t believe you?” The engine rumbled to life and Sheriff put it into reverse.  
Stiles stared out the window as Sheriff backed out of the driveway. “She doesn’t sense anything so she said it isn’t real. She said I’m just tired.”

“You are exhausted Stiles. You barely get a few hours before you wake up screaming--”

“I’m sorry!” Stiles snapped turning to look at his dad. “This isn’t my fault! I would stop it if I could just so everyone can get on with their normal lives! I’m sorry!”

“I’m not blaming you Stiles. I’m just worried about you. Maybe Derek can--”

“Not Derek. I don’t want to bother him. That was one time.” Stiles looked down at his lap.

“Alright.” Sheriff pulled into the school’s parking lot and stopped. He reached over with one arm and pulled Stiles into him after Stiles had undone his seatbelt. “I love you kiddo, and I’m worried about you. I’m sorry I have to work tonight.”

“I love you too dad.” Stiles mumbled, burying his face in his dad’s shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

“No! No no no no!” Stiles screamed, suddenly shoving up from his desk as he bolted out of the classroom. The chair tips backward in his hasty retreat. Mr. Yukimura called after him before motioning for Scott to follow Stiles.

“Stiles!” Scott chased after Stiles. “Stiles!”

Stiles didn’t stop. Not after seeing the Nogitsune standing in the front of the classroom teaching history. He shoved his way into a bathroom, not paying attention that he had just ran into the women’s, and locked himself in the last stall, awkwardly wedging himself as far back between the toilet and wall as he could. His chest rose and fell in a sporadic pattern as he clawed at his hair. He wasn’t safe. It wasn’t safe. Nothing was safe.

“Stiles?” Said person lifted his head at the familiar voice of his best friend. “Stiles, unlock the door.”

“No” Stiles stuttered out, watching as Scott’s body sat outside the door.

“What’s wrong?” Scott whispered, fingers drumming on his knees. When Stiles didn’t answer except for his staccato breathing and gasps, Scott let out a sharp sigh. “Why did you run from class?”

Stiles twisted his fingers in his hair, pulling hard. “I saw it. It’s still here.” If it hadn’t been for Scott’s werewolf hearing, Stiles would have been inaudible. 

“What’s still here?” Scott pressed.

“The--the nogitsune.” Stiles was barely able to say its name without crying out. He stuttered over it as he shook.

Scott was silent for what felt like an eternity to Stiles. “Stiles, the nogitsune is gone. What you saw wasn’t real.”

“It was real! It was there!” Stiles tried to convince Scott.

“It wasn’t real, Stiles. I got rid of it. It’s gone. It’s not real anymore.” Scott’s voice had raised slightly.

Stiles slid out from where he had wedged himself in the corner after a pregnant moment, unlocking the door, shoving it open enough to slip out, and yelled “Why does no one believe me anymore?” as he ran out of the bathroom. He ran out of the school and down the streets. He shoved random walkers and window shoppers out of his way as he ran, unsure of his destination.

***

Stiles didn’t know how he ended up outside Derek’s building. He had blindly ran here after Scott’s disbelief. He didn’t want to go up to see Derek, but he couldn’t convince his body to move from his curled up position against the wall. To make matters worse, the sky had opened up during class and it was down pouring. In a matter of moments, Stiles was soaked to the bone and shivering. He didn’t know how long he had laid on his side against the wall when he heard a very soft voice call out his name.

Derek was walking from his Camaro to the building with a bag of groceries when he heard the cries. He glanced around before spotting a soaking, shivering Stiles on the ground. Derek sighed before walking slowly over towards him in order not to spook the boy on the ground. “Stiles?”

“Derek.” Stiles sat up and hiccuped. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m here. I’ll just go. I’m sor--”

Derek had grabbed Stiles’ arm and pulled him up, ushering him into the building and up to the loft without a word. He listened to the aimless rambling of Stiles as he tried to apologize and how he didn’t want to be a bother. When they entered the loft, Derek left Stiles standing in the middle of the room, returning a few minutes later with clothing and a towel in his hands.

“Dry off and change into these dry clothes. I’ll make some tea. We’ll talk after that, okay?”

Stiles nodded and Derek placed the items in Stiles’ hands, gently pushing him towards the bathroom. As Derek set the kettle on to boil water, he listened for Stiles’ heartbeat, trying to gauge how much panic the boy was in and what course of action he was going to take. He was adding the tea bags when he heard the soft padding of socked feet on the hard floors. He turned and saw Stiles drowning in Derek’s clothing. The long sleeve shirt’s sleeves hung past his hands and the neckline was too wide on Stiles’ slim body as it had started to fall to one side, revealing Stiles’ left collarbone. The sweatpants were too long for Stiles’ legs, but it seemed that Stiles’ had made use of the drawstring so they stayed on his hips. His hair was every direction from what appeared to be where he furiously ran the towel over his head in attempts to dry it. In the time Derek had known Stiles, he had never seen him look like this. This human was always so confident and cocky, but now he looked lost, a bit frightened, like a small child, and most of all, exhausted.

“Do you want sugar in your tea?” Derek asked as Stiles lifted his head, eyes blinking rapidly for a second, almost in shock from the werewolf speaking. Stiles nodded his head and looked back down at his feet. He smelled a bit like embarrassment, but from what, Derek had no idea.

Derek finished the tea, grabbing both mugs and gently ushering Stiles to the sofa. Once he was situated, Derek handed him his mug of tea before sitting next to him. They sat in silence, sipping their tea. Derek trying to think of what to say, not noticing Stiles’ eyes starting to droop. Derek tried to contain a jump when he felt a sudden weight on his shoulder. He looked down and saw Stiles sleeping against him, his hands cradling the almost finished mug of tea. Derek gently moved it from Stiles’ hands. “Alright, Stiles. We’ll talk when you wake up.” Derek murmured, picking up his book from the floor where he left it before he went out to get a few items from the store. He began reading letting the exhausted human sleep against him.

After a while, the subtle vibration of his phone caught his attention from the comfortable quietness of the afternoon.

**Scott:** Have you seen Stiles? He ran from me during school

Derek texted back informing Scott that Stiles was with him, asleep, and not to worry. Stiles was safe for now.

***

It was late evening when Stiles finally started to stir. He slowly lifted his head from the shoulder he had claimed as his pillow for the past several hours. He blinked looking around, trying to figure out where he was. He started to panic a bit when he realized he wasn’t home and the lighting was just dark enough he couldn’t tell his surroundings well enough.

Derek sense the panic in Stiles as the boy’s heartbeat suddenly sped up. Derek quickly sat down the book and touched Stiles’ shoulder to gain his attention. Stiles jumped, looking at Derek, mumbling how it was a dream. Derek lifted his hands and said, “Count with me Stiles.” They slowly counted to ten together, Derek lifting a finger and allowing Stiles to touch it lightly. Once they reached ten, Stiles calmed a bit as he lightly grabbed Derek’s hands and turned them around to double check for extra fingers. When he was satisfied he let go and looked at his lap, blushing very lightly.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. 

Derek’s mouth curled up into the tiniest of smiles. “Nothing to apologize for.” He was interrupted by a gurgling sound coming from Stiles, and he smirked as the boy wrapped his arms around his stomach, looking at Derek with an embarrassed face. “Let’s get some food, yeah?”

Derek stood up and walked towards the kitchen with Stiles following him like a lost puppy until he nearly tripped on the hem of Derek’s sweats that he was wearing. He stumbled and looked up, his cheeks turning pink from embarrassment. Derek chuckled, and opened the fridge, glancing around. “What sounds good to you Stiles?”

“Anything is fine. But you should also just take me home. I’m sure I can find something to eat there.” Stiles mumbled, paying attention to the patterns he was drawing with his toe. “And my dad is probably going on his meal break sometime soon and worry if I’m not home.”

Derek reached and grabbed a carton of eggs. “I contacted your dad while you were asleep. He knows you are here with me and he’s asked if you could stay here for the night. He was actually grateful since he’s working tonight.” Derek sat the carton of eggs on the counter and gently guided Stiles to sit down at the table when Stiles just nodded in response. “I’ll make some tea as well, alright? Help calm down your nerves, help you sleep some more, because no offense, you look like you could use it.”

“That’s fine. Thanks.” Stiles drew patterns on the tabletop while Derek turned back to the eggs he left on the counter.

While he was scrambling them, he couldn’t help but notice how quiet Stiles was and how odd that for him. He kept pictured in his head the chain Deaton had held in his hands, watching the dented and cracked link break, severing the chain, the broken link laying on the ground. He couldn’t let a pack end like that, not when he had already lost two of his own.

Derek set a mug of tea in front of Stiles along with a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. He returned with a plate and mug of his own. They ate in silence until Derek finally spoke up, keeping his voice soft so not to startle Stiles anymore. “What happened today?”

Stiles set down his fork and stared at his plate. “I saw the nogitsune again.” Stiles paused as his breathing picked up slightly. Derek reached across the table and gently touched Stiles’ arm, causing him to look up. Derek nodded at him, encouraging him to continue. “Kira’s dad was it. I ran from class and apparently, Scott followed me. When I told him what I saw he told me he didn’t believe me because he had taken care of it. No one believes me that I saw it. I’m not crazy. I can’t be,” Stiles reached up to pull at his hair, breathing quickly.

Derek fumed silently, angry at Scott for brushing Stiles off like that. Scott still had a lot to learn as an alpha, not that Derek and Peter had set the bar very high. “You’re not crazy Stiles,” Derek chose his words carefully, not missing when Stiles lifted his head to look at him. “I don’t doubt that you saw the nogitsune. My Camaro wouldn’t need to have the side mirror replaced if you hadn’t.”

“Sorry,” Stiles muttered.

“Nothing to be sorry about. It’s okay. You’ll be okay. You may not be right now, but you will be. You are pack. You are important in the pack. The pack needs you running at your best. So let’s get you to bed again.” Derek stood up, holding his hand out for Stiles who hesitantly grabbed it as Derek lifted him up. He gently placed a hand on Stiles’ back and guided him to his bed.

“I can’t sleep in your bed. I’ll sleep on the sofa or something.” Stiles watched on as Derek pulled back the blankets.

“It’s okay Stiles. I’ll sleep in Peter’s bed. He’s off somewhere doing only God knows what for a few days. It’s okay.” Derek helped Stiles lay down. Derek was turning to leave when he felt Stiles’ hand on his forearm.

“Stay? Until I fall asleep?” Stiles avoided eye contact.

Derek nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed and watched as Stiles rolled around, trying to get comfortable. When he stilled on his side, Derek reached out and gently ran his hand up and down Stiles’ arm, trying to soothe him into sleep. After a long while, Derek was listening to the slow, steady breathing and heartbeat of a sleeping Stiles. He gently eased his way from the sleeping boy and made his way up the stairs to the room Peter had claimed when he was staying at the loft with Derek.

***

Derek was up in an instant, running down the stairs when he first heard the wails. He had shifted when he heard the screams, fearing the worst, and ready to protect the human who didn’t have his bat. What he hadn’t expected was to find a thrashing boy, caught in the terror that was his own mind. Derek calmed himself enough to shift back, before catching Stiles in his arms and holding him until Stiles stopped screaming and thrashing. He was panting hard and Derek sighed. He slowly released his grip on Stiles when he was certain Stiles wouldn’t hurt himself. Stiles was crying and let out a startled sound when Derek leaned over to turn on the bedside lamp. Derek held his hands open palmed in front of Stiles’ wide eyes, allowing the boy to touch and count his fingers before he muttered off about how it was his fault and they were dead and it was so real. 

The full weight of Stiles’ guilt hit Derek like a ton of bricks. The boy absolutely reeked of it. He wrapped his arms around the shaking boy and let Stiles get as close to Derek as he could, as Derek tried to shush his ramblings about how it was his fault, all his fault. Derek stayed like that the entire night, alternating from rubbing Stiles’ back to carding his fingers through his hair. Stiles eventually calmed enough to fall asleep again a couple of hours before dawn.

Morning found them just the same, an exhausted Derek with his back against the headboard, his fingers tangled in Stiles’ hair, with Stiles curled up beside Derek, his head in Derek’s lap, the material of Derek’s pajama bottoms bunched up in his fist.

***

“Stiles, you need to wake up. You have school.” Derek shook Stiles’ shoulder in hopes that he would wake up.

Stiles open and closed his fist around the material from Derek’s pajama pants. “Five more minutes Dad.” He twitched slightly.

Derek tried not to chuckle at the oblivious state that Stiles was in. “Stiles, I’m not your dad. You need to wake up. Your clothes should be dry by now. I’ll drive you to school, but you need to wake up.”

Stiles lifted his head nodding slowly. Derek observed how Stiles’ skin was slightly pink, how he had that soft sleep look. He rubbed Stiles’ back as he gently pushed him towards where his clothes had been hung up the day before to dry. Once Stiles had the bathroom door shut, Derek rose to go make some coffee, knowing he needed it, badly. He was lifting his arm to put the creamer back into the cupboard from the cupboard when he felt the warm body of Stiles clinging to his side. He froze for a second before he awkwardly patted Stiles. “What’s this for?”

“Thanks,” Stiles mumbled before letting go for fear of overstepping lines. 

Derek nodded and pulled the mug down. “Anytime. I’m serious.” He glanced at the time on his phone before downing the coffee, grunting at the temperature. “Let’s get you to school.”


	3. Chapter 3

The ride to school was a comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Stiles didn’t want to go to school, not when people didn’t believe that it was back. He didn’t know how to convince Derek to turn them around and take Stiles home. He was too busy worrying at his lip to realize that Derek pulled up into school parking lot. There were a few moments of silence before Derek’s voice broke the silence.

“You going to get out?” 

Stiles jumped, turning to look at Derek. “Of course, yeah, sorry. I’ll go now. School...gotta do the learning thing...yeah, school. Ha.” But he made no motion to move out of the Camaro.

Derek rose his eyebrow at Stiles, motioning to the door with the sweep of his hand. Stiles quickly unbuckled himself, opened the door, and all but tumbled out onto the pavement. “You have my number. Text me if you need anything.” Derek watched Stiles nod. “I’m serious. You see anything at all, text me and I’ll come get you.”

Stiles shut the door after nodding and watch Derek drive off. He sighed and turned to walk up the steps into hell.

***

The fourth period found Stiles pacing the men’s bathroom, grabbing, pulling at his hair. He had heard his voice, “Let me in, Stiles. Let me in!” He tried to tell Kira and Scott but they brushed it off as if it was nothing. They were too busy trying to undress each other with their eyes to fully hear what Stiles had said anyway. What does it matter, Scott didn’t care. No one did. Well, Derek did. But no, Stiles couldn’t ask Derek. He had already taken advantage of Derek by staying over last night.

Stiles turned and smashed his fist into the tiled wall with as much force as the scrawny boy could muster, pulling his hand back and cradling at his chest, blinking back tears that sprang to his eyes from the force of the impact. Maybe not the most brilliant idea, but he hadn’t taken his Adderall, so he could blame that. He bit back a groan of pain as he watched the bruise starting to form. He bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut as he slid down the wall, hand tucked firmly against his chest. His phone vibrated in his backpack, but he couldn’t be bothered to move from his position on the floor. 

None of this was making sense. He was gone. He was dead. But if he was, why was Stiles still being tormented?

***

“What happened to your hand?” Sheriff’s eyes never left the road as he drove Stiles back home. Stiles thought he would have been good at hiding it, but he should have realized that nothing would ever get it past his father.

Stiles glanced at his father, “Nothing. I was just being stupid and punched Scott a bit too hard when we were messing around during free period.”

The Sheriff pulled into the driveway, grabbing Stiles’ wrist before he could escape. “Punched Scott too hard, eh?” He gently touched the swollen and purple knuckles. Stiles gasped, scrunching his eyes closed, trying to wrench his hand free. “I don’t like the look of this.”

“It’s just bruised. Let me go so I can start homework. Don’t you have to go to work or something?” Stiles was trying desperately, in vain, to pull his wrist from his father’s grasp. He looked much like a small child trying to escape their parent. 

Sheriff let go of his son’s hand, watching Stiles flail to get out of the cruiser. “I don’t have to leave until tonight. I think we should get that hand looked at--”

“No! I’m fine! Besides we can’t afford it after Eichen and my MRI. It was stupid and my own fault, but I’m okay. I’m just going to go do homework now.” Stiles adjusted the straps of his backpack with his good hand before turning and running up into the house.

“That’s not for you to worry about!” the Sheriff called after his son, realizing it was too late as the front door swung shut. He brushed a hand down his face, sighing deeply, before leaving the cruiser to join Stiles in the house.

***

**Derek:** You okay? Scott said you were acting oddly today and that you didn’t show up for chemistry.

**Stiles:** Perfectly normal. Great even. Just catching up on homework. You know, the usual. Took longer than my free period allowed.

**Derek:** I can practically smell your anxiety through the phone. What’s wrong?

**Stiles:** YOU CAN DO THAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

**Derek:** You’re avoiding the question

**Stiles:** Sorry for getting excited about new werewolf information. I wasn’t informed of your WOLFY EMOTION SMELLING POWERS! 

**Derek:** Stiles….

**Stiles:** Yes Derek, smeller of feelings?

**Derek:** …

**Derek:** Are you okay?

***

The almost full moon was rising higher in the sky as Stiles sat on the rusting swing set in the park down the street from his house. His dad had left for his overnight shift about two hours previous. Stiles had felt trapped in the house, it felt as if the walls had been closing in on him and that someone was watching him. He still couldn’t shake the feeling of the pairs of eyes on him. It was a rather cold night, well cold by California’s standards. He barely swung his body back and forth on the swings. His mind was racing a million miles an hour. 

His mother use to take him here when he was little and he had finished his homework early. He could still see her brown hair ruffle in the gentle breeze as she pushed Stiles higher and higher on the swings. He could still smell crisp fall air. He could feel the warm sun on his face. It was a happy memory. Back before he knew what werewolves and kitsune and frontotemporal dementia was. Back when the worst thing that could happen is he got a C on his report card or he had scraped up his knee. Back when he was happy. Stiles dug his toe into the ground, drawing random patterns, suddenly finding the chipped wood covering the playground the most fascinating thing ever. It still felt like someone was watching him.  
***

Stiles was startled out of his mind when a jacket was placed around his shoulders. It was thick and warm. It smelled of leather and of Derek. He looked up and twisted around in the swing when he felt large hands on his shoulders. “You alright? You haven’t answered my texts or phone calls for the past four hours.”

“I-uh-I left my phone at the house,” Stiles mumbled as he felt Derek direct his arms into the sleeves of the iconic jacket. “Don’t you need the jacket? You’ll get cold.”

“How long have you been out here? You’re freezing.” Derek ignored Stiles’ question.

“A time,” Stiles mumbled through a yawn. “How did you find me?”

Derek grunted in response before gently helping the human that looked so small at that moment stand to his feet. He gently led Stiles in the direction of his house, Derek’s hand never leaving the small of Stiles’ back. Stiles took note of the Camaro sitting in the driveway behind his jeep. Derek ushered him into the house and up the stairs to his room. He sat Stiles down on his bed before turning to the dresser, a small smirk forming on his lips from distant memories when he barely knew this brave human. Memories of Miguel and Stiles thinking that his small shirts would fit his more muscular frame. The same human that turned his world upside down, changing his view on the strength of the human race. He shook the thought away as he dug through and grabbed a pair of pajama pants and a long sleeve shirt as he was sure Stiles still had to be cold.

When Derek turned back to the bed, he saw Stiles curled up at the foot of the bed, clutching the leather jacket as tightly around his body as he could, half asleep. He rolled his eyes as he went and sat down next to Stiles and took off his shoes. Stiles grumbled halfheartedly in protest but Derek chose to ignore it as he helped the boy stand to his feet. Stiles swayed slightly and Derek didn’t even want to think about the fact he had to get Stiles into the pajama pants. After a minute of trying to reason with Stiles about needing to change and Stiles complaining that he was too tired or didn’t care, Derek sighed in frustration before standing and gently pushing Stiles into the bathroom and tossing in the pajama pants, threatening Stiles if he wasn’t changed by the time he was back.

Returning with a glass of water as well as another blanket for Stiles’ bed, Derek knocks on the bathroom door with his toe before he goes to set the stuff down. He turned around to find Stiles standing his pajamas, but he had put Derek’s jacket back on. He was blushing and looking down at his sock-clad feet. “I like it because it’s warm and it smells like you and you smell safe.” Stiles quietly admitted, pulling the sleeves down over his hands, playing with the cuffs.

“Okay,” Derek said with a small smile. He ushered Stiles to his bed, drawing back the blankets, and helping him lie down. He tucked Stiles in before turning off the bedside lamp and the main lights. He left the bathroom light on and closed it all but a little so a sliver a light still shone in the room. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me. Get some rest, Stiles.” He was just about to shut the door when he heard from the room a small voice call out for him to wait.

“Will you stay with me?”

***

In his sleepy haze, Derek pulled the warm body closer to himself. He sighed, his mind still blurry from the night’s rest. He rubbed his hand up and down the back of the person next to him. The smooth feeling of leather startling him and he blinked the sleep from his eyes and quickly as possible. He looked down and saw the sleeping figure of Stiles, his head resting on Derek’s chest, his mouth pouting slightly. Derek could feel the boy’s fingers twitch slightly from where the rested against his stomach. Derek didn’t want to admit it, but he missed this feeling. He missed having someone to take care of. He missed having someone depend on him for their safety, their comfort, their rock. He rubbed his hand up and down Stiles’ back once again as the bedroom door creaked open some and the Sheriff’s head popped in.

“Oh. I didn’t mean...did he sleep the whole night?” Sheriff was obviously flustered from finding Derek and his son in bed together. 

Derek nodded, “Yeah. As far as I know.”

“I’ll make you some coffee and breakfast for you two.” and with that Sheriff was out. Derek could hear the footfalls down the stairs and the man fumbling about the kitchen. Derek sighed and gently shook Stiles’ shoulder to wake him up. The human grumbled, rubbing his face further into Derek’s chest. 

“Come on sleepy. It’s time get up. You’re dad’s making breakfast.”

Stiles played with the material of Derek’s shirt. “No. You’re warm.”

Derek chuckled and rubbed his hand up and down Stiles’ back again. “It’s a wolf thing.” Stiles hummed in response, going to bunch of the material of Derek’s shirt in his fist but winced in pain, remember the events of the day before. Derek slowly grabbed Stiles’ hand to inspect the bruised knuckles. “Does it still hurt?”

Stiles tried to pull his hand from Derek’s grasp. “It’s fine. It doesn’t even hurt. Let’s go get food.”

“Liar.” Derek murmured. “It doesn’t look like it’s okay. What happened?”

Stiles kept trying to fight for it back. He froze when he felt the pain start to dwindle. He looked up to see black veins crawling up Derek’s arm and hand, then just they disappeared the same way they came. “What did you do?”

“Scott has never shown you that before?”

Stiles shook his head, moved off Derek and sat up. “I don’t see much of Scott these days. I’m not important enough compared to Kira. And I’m also apparently crazy because--because he's supposed to be dead.” Stiles hung his head and grabbed at his hair, his injured hand not as tight as the other, his eyes screwed shut.

“Hey. None of that. You’re not crazy. I have no doubt you’re seeing him.” Derek sat up and leaned slightly against Stiles to let him know that he was still there. Stiles responded with turning his body and placing his head against Derek’s shoulder and screamed in frustration. Derek quickly wrapped his arm around the smaller male’s shoulders, pulling him close. He started shushing him, tuning his hearing to figure out if Sheriff was coming up--he wasn’t. He sat and gently rocked Stiles back and forth until his breathing and heartbeat slowed. The smell of anxiety and fear and frustration started to dissipate from Stiles. “Let’s go get some breakfast, yeah? You can skip school today. We’ll do something else today.”

Stiles nodded his head, rubbing the remnants of tear tracks from his face. As they left the room, Derek watched from the corner of his eye as Stiles count his fingers a few times when the human thought he wasn’t paying attention.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm at a work conference this week and I have a meeting when I usually post so you get an early treat this week!

“Why are we in the preserve? There’s nothing special out here.” Stiles tripped on a root, stumbling a bit, before regaining balance. “I’m going to fall and break my face or something.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Nah. It’s one of my specialties. But in all seriousness, why here?”

Derek sighed and stopped walking. “It’s where I use to go after the fire. It felt…” he paused for a moment looking for the right word. ”Freeing. I use to hide out here for hours until Laura would find me. I could forget the shit that had happened for a while. I still do sometimes when I’m not taking care of some human that never shuts up.”

“That’s no way to talk about Lydia.”

“Lydia technically isn’t human though, is she?”

Stiles stopped dead in his tracks and let out a shaky breath. “Am I really the only human left?”

Derek let out a chuckle, which he tried to disguise as a huff. “You aren’t the only human left. Melissa, your father, majority of the assholes at your high school; they’re all human. But in Scott’s pack, yeah.”

Stiles slid down the trunk of a tree and wrapped his arms around his knees. “I’m such a burden,” he mumbled. “I’m the stupid, weak human that can’t defend myself. My bat would do nothing against real things. I’m not even as skilled as Allison was and it’s my fault she’s…she’s…she’s dead.”

Derek squatted down in front of Stiles. “You are not a burden. And you definitely aren’t weak. The number of things you do to help your friends. The fact you’d be willing to stand against all the shit you’ve gone through without being supernatural shows just how strong you are.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so.” Derek stood up and held his hand out for Stiles. “Come on.” Stiles stared at it for a few moments before reaching out and grabbing hold of it. Derek pulled him up and before he could release Stiles’ hand, Stiles slipped his fingers in between Derek’s. He shyly looked at the ground, biting the hoodie sleeve of his free hand. Derek shook his head slightly before continue to walk forward, deciding now was not the time to comment on it.

***

“We have to duck under the overhang.” Derek stooped down to walk through the shallow opening hillside. It wasn’t there unless one knew where it was. Derek was still holding onto Stiles’ hand as he led him to his hiding spot. Derek sat down almost at once, pulling Stiles down with him to sit. The area was small enough that Stiles was nestled up next to Derek and their heads were almost touching the top.

Stiles sneezed from the puff of dust that flew up from when they sat down. “What is this?”

Derek leaned his head back, eyes closed, a soft smile on his normally hard face. “This is a wolf’s den. Or it use to be. At one point. Before wolves left California and migrated elsewhere. My mother found it when she was in high school. Maybe even a bit younger. She had been struggling with controlling her shift and she found this place on a full moon when she was trying to be as far away from Beacon Hills as possible. It was inhabited by a mother wolf and her 3 pups, who she startled right away. Where the rest of their pack was, she didn’t know. And my mother, she, I guess, felt safe here. After the full moon was over, she went back out here to try and find it again. After a lot of patience, the wolves accepted her. After the wolf migration, she kept returning here for that feeling of safety. When I was little, she use to take me here. Anyway, after the fire, I came here to hide because I figured if it helped my mother, it might help me. I stayed here for who knows how long, but Laura eventually found me. Besides Peter, we only had each other. I kept returning here because of the memories of my mother. It became my safe haven I guess. And I figure with all the shit going on, you might want someplace that is safe. Away from Beacon Hills. Away from everything.”

Stiles’ hand made its way towards his mouth and he began to chew on the sweatshirt sleeve once again. He had no words. He felt like he was invading such a private and perhaps sacred place for Derek. He leaned his head on Derek’s shoulder and mumbled a thank you through the material of his hoodie. Derek simply responded by moving his arm and wrapping it around Stiles’ shoulders, allowing him to snuggle closer to Derek’s side. 

“I did so many horrible things.” Stiles started. Derek squeezed his shoulders slightly. “I still see so much death. I see the anger and the rage. And I wanted it. I didn’t want it, but I wanted it. I had no escape. It’s all my fault. All my fault.” His words tumbled out at a fast past until his breathing began to get a bit ragged. Stiles’ whole body shook. “I see that...that thing. He’s still here. Maybe not really here. But he’s here. He’s still possessing me. Or I think he is. Or he’s trying to get me back. I don’t know. It scares me though. But I will see him as people I know or he’ll just randomly be standing in the background, waiting for me to let my guard down. He’s in my head, in my sleep. I can’t escape it” He stumbled over his words as if it was painful to say anything and he just wanted to get it out as fast as he could. Stiles grabbed at his hair, pulling, “I just want it all to end!” He all but screamed. His breathing was uneven, shallow, and fast. “Make it stop! Make him go away!”

Derek shushed Stiles and held him close. He forced Stiles’ head back towards his chest and eventually found the response he was hoping for. The steady thumping of his own heart and deep breathing was calming the human. After what seemed like an eternity, Stiles sniffed and snuggled closer. His uninjured hand bunched up the hem of Derek’s shirt in a fist. He tried to focus Derek’s breathing. Trying to match the pace. It was still hard to breathe deeply and a good pace, but he was trying. It wasn’t until Derek could hear the slowed heartbeat and normal breathing that he spoke.

“We’re going to be okay.”

***

The sun was just beginning to set when the pair stepped back onto the running path in the preserve. Stiles was once again wearing Derek’s jacket. As they made their way to Derek’s Camaro, Stiles’ slipped his hand into the warmth of Derek’s. Soft smiles crept onto their faces as they walked down the path in the warm orange light of the sunset. Everything felt soft and almost magical to Stiles. His world was a crazy mess of a storm. He felt like he had nowhere to go while everything fell down around him, but there was Derek. The strong steadiness he needed and desired. 

The moment was ruined with the grumbles of Stiles’ stomach. Derek chuckled, shaking his head, before gently pulling the human behind him towards the Camaro to get him home. 

“You had to ruin everything, didn’t you?” Derek turned to look at Stiles when he heard him speak but saw the boy looking at his stomach. Derek let out an actual laugh. Something Stiles was sure he had never heard. There was a comical sight of his head popping up to look at the werewolf. “You know how to laugh? I thought you were only Mr. Scowly, Grouchy, Sourwolf”

Derek’s smile fell as he donned his traditional scowl. “Very funny. Let’s get back to your dad’s.” 

Stiles smile grew even larger as he registered a small squeeze to his hand that was tangled with Derek’s.

***

“Thank your dad again for the meal. I appreciated it.” Derek said as he checked his pockets for his keys, wallet, and phone. He and Stiles were standing next to the front door. Derek could hear the Sheriff loading the dishwasher a few rooms over. 

Stiles fiddled with the cuffs of Derek’s leather jacket. He was still wearing because he claimed he was still cold. Truthfully he just liked it because it smelled of Derek. “You mean you enjoyed not having to make a bachelor meal for yourself in your man cave of a loft right?”

“One can only have ramen so many times” Derek cracked a small smile. “But really, it was just nice not to spend a meal alone.”

Stiles toed the ground, staring at his mismatched socks. He remembered grabbing the first two he saw this morning because he was excited to spend the day with Derek that he didn’t care. “Do you really have to go back home?”

“I’m only a text away.”

Stiles looked up to meet Derek’s eyes. “Yeah, but last night was the first night I haven’t had a nightmare in a long, long time. And then when I was in your loft, I didn’t have one when I was with you, well after that first one when you came to count fingers.”

“I’m only a text away, Stiles.”

Stiles looked so pitiful that Derek sighed and pulled the human into his arms. He felt Stiles wrap his arms, a bit hesitantly, around his middle. He ran his hand up and down the boy’s spine. He let go of Stiles after a few moments and cleared his throat. “Hold onto my jacket. If it helps you feel safe, or remind you of me, then wear it. I’m only a text away.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Stiles mumbled, eyes staring intently at the carpet. 

Derek debated with himself for a moment before placing his hand on the back of Stiles’ head and placing his lips on Stiles’ forehead. Stiles looked up, blinking rapidly, watching Derek pull away after a moment or so. Derek cleared his throat. “Uh...goodnight.”

“Yeah...goodnight. Text me when you get back home.”

***

Moonlight was pouring into Stiles’ room when the sound of the window shutting roused him from his sleep. Stiles flipped on his bedside lamp, sitting up. He watched Derek freeze, being caught in the light that flooded the room. “Whachu doin’?” His speech slurred with sleep.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Derek walked away from the window. “I saw your dad’s car at the station a couple of hours ago and figured he was working a night shift.” He sat down on the bed after Stiles patted the empty spot next to him. He felt Stiles worm his way under his arm. “What are you doing?”

Stiles stilled for a short moment before rubbing his head into Derek’s side. “Burrowing. Are you going to stay?”

Derek nodded and toed off his shoes so he could sit more comfortably on the bed. “Until your dad gets home.” He felt Stiles worm his way back into a laying position and felt the pressure of Stiles’ head on his lap. He reached over and turned off the light, letting darkness wash over the room, his werewolf eyes adjusting right away to the darkness. He carded his fingers through the human’s hair, trying to silently encourage him back into sleep.

“Maybe you’re not as much of a sourwolf as you make yourself out to be”

***

Stiles flailed as he was abruptly dragged from sleep at the sudden movement of Derek standing up. He opened his mouth but Derek shushed him and slipped to look out the window and cursed. “I wasn’t paying close enough attention. Your dad’s home.” He pulled on his shoes. He looked over at Stiles who was blinking owlishly, eyes fixed on the patterns of his comforter, obviously still not fully awake. “Text me when you’re done with school to let me know how you’re doing.” Derek leaned over to kiss Stiles’ forehead if it wasn’t for Stiles’ slow reaction to Derek talking. As he lifted his head to look at Derek, Derek’s lips hitting his upper lip and just under his nose. 

Derek pulled away quickly. He stammered out the word fuck a few times and back away. He opened the window. “I’ll, um….I’ll talk to you later.” And with that he was gone, disappearing out the window.

Stiles sat in shock, questioning if that really happened. His body felt tingly, like small currents of electricity was coursing through his body. It felt so right, and his body’s response was how all the romance books and movies described it. The more he focused on it, the more he realized how he truly felt about Derek. But he was afraid. He was scared this was just dependency on the only person who could stop the nightmares and him. He didn’t want to feel like he was leading Derek on because he felt he needed Derek to make it through the night. He didn’t even know where Derek stood in terms of his sexuality. He had only known Derek to be with women, a poor choice of women for that matter.

Stiles groaned and sat up, making his way to his bathroom. He turned on the shower, waiting for it to heat up. As he underdressed and caught sight of his body in the mirror, he sighed and turned the water temperature from warm to cold, not wanting to deal with his teenage hormones.

***

**Derek:** Stiles, it’s 4 pm. You were supposed to text me when you were done with school.

**Derek:** ...

**Derek:** It’s 5:23 and I still haven’t heard from you.

**Derek:** It’s 6. You never ignore my texts.

**Derek:** I hope your phone fell in the toilet because you’re such a spaz and that’s the reason you’re not responding.

**Derek:** I’m actually getting worried. Scott said you were at school today.

**Derek:** I just saw your dad at the gas station. He said you were at home and had been on the phone with Lydia so I know your phone is working.

**Derek:** It’s 9:45 Stiles.

**Derek:** I’m coming over. I need to know you’re okay.

***

Derek pulled up in front of the Stilinski household, not seeing the cruiser in the drive. The jeep hadn’t been moved from where it was left when Derek had it towed. He realized that Sheriff must be the one driving Stiles to and from school, well, when Stiles doesn’t show up soaking wet in front of the loft.

The house was dark. No light shone through the windows. Like normal Derek parked down the street and made his way back to the house. As he made his way around to the side of the house he noticed a faint blue light radiated from Stiles’ window. He must be awake on his laptop doing whatever 17-year-olds do on the internet late at night or when they are home alone. He knew but didn’t fully relate seeing as he never fully got that chance since his high school years were ripped away from him because he made a poor choice in women. He sighed, feeling the twinge of pain from remembering the severed pack bonds, family bonds.

As he stood outside the house, a figure cloaked in the darkness, he didn’t move. He stared up at the window, not sensing any distress coming from the human. Derek glanced around before he climbed up the tree that he had used every time to sneak into the room. He stared in through the window watching Stiles wordlessly as he worked on his laptop. He sat at his desk, none the wiser to Derek outside his window. He wanted to move the final four or so feet that it took to open the window and climb inside. But something held him back.

Stiles never ignored him. Not even before whatever this was. He has always had an eager puppy-like response. Even when they had first met the year before and they didn’t use the term “friend” for each other. Stiles must have had a reason for the distance. And whatever that reason, Derek couldn’t explain why, but it killed him on the inside for some reason. 

After about an hour Derek watched as Stiles shut down his computer and stretch. The room was instantly dark without the light from the computer, but that was no issue for the wolf. His eyes glowed an eerie blue as he watched Stiles clamber around in the dark for a few minutes before his bedside lamp flickered on. Stiles went about his nighttime routine of changing, to which Derek turned his head, a slight blush rising on the once emotionless person. But the thing that caught Derek’s attention was how the teen hesitated before grabbing a leather jacket and bringing it up to his face. He watched the shoulders shake ever so slightly before Stiles tossed the jacket on to the desk chair and climb into bed, some sort of resolve written over his face. The lights went out and the whole house was bathed in darkness once again.

Derek watched for a few minutes until the all the signs of sleep were visible on Stiles. Before he descended the tree and drove off, he sent a text to Stiles.

**Derek:** I don’t know what’s going on, but if you need me for any reason, I’m only a text or a call away.


	5. Chapter 5

Several weeks had passed and old habits formed once again. It wasn’t rare for the Sheriff to either come rushing in to console a nightmare-ridden Stiles or to find him screaming from the depths of his closet. He was a walking shell of a person. He was so worn down from the images in his head and the nightmares in his sleep. He went through the motion of school, ignoring everyone, including Scott. 

Scott, the one other person’s attention he had once craved, he was so deprived of sleep and normal emotions that he didn’t care. Scott, his best friend since sandbox days, was finally trying to care for him. But any mention of the nogitsune and his torment just proved futile as words of “he’s gone” or “he’s dead” resounded over and over again that it wasn’t worth it. 

His dad wanted to take him to a counselor until Stiles asked what could a counselor do for supernatural issues. There was no cure. There was nothing they could do but ride the wave and not hope to drown in the process. The one thing that had any help on the issue, Stiles had pushed away in fear. And his stubborn pride was too strong for him to go crawling back to Derek. It was his own damn fault he was in this in the first place anyway. He had opened that door that couldn’t be shut in his mind. He had left himself open to possession. He had to face the consequences of his own actions and decisions, no matter how noble they had seemed at the time.

He hadn’t seen Derek except for the occasional glance as he passed the Camaro on his way to and from school. Beacon Hills was too small to avoid that. Stiles had returned the jacket to the loft within the first week of his silent treatment to the werewolf when he knew that Derek was out. He was shocked to find Peter, or Uncle Douchebag as he often referred to him in his head, home. That in itself didn’t go without an uncomfortable conversation. 

“It seems I have a former fox at my door. How can I be of service?” Peter leaned against the giant frame of the open door, arms crossed. He raked his eyes up and down Stiles, taking in his appearance.

Stiles thrust the jacket out, squirming under Peter’s scrutiny, “Derek left this at my place. I figured he would want it back.”

Peter took the leather from the outstretched hand. “You mean to say you didn’t want to give me the honor of visit little old me? I’m insulted, sweetheart.” 

Stiles danced from foot to foot. “As if.” He mumbled.

Peter turned to walk back into the loft. “Derek will be home soon. If you’d like to wait--”

“No!” Stiles cut in. Peter turned back around to stare at him, eyebrow raised in confusion. He set the jacket down on the sofa and walked back towards Stiles, waiting for him to continue. “I...uh...I mean I have homework and really shouldn’t hang around.”

“Would you stop lying? It seriously is no use. I’d think you’d learn that by now given how much you hang around McCall and Derek.” Peter stopped and resumed his position against the doorframe. “Now, would you like to tell me the real reason you suddenly don’t want to be around Derek?”

Stiles grimaced. “I just don’t want to. For my reasons and my reasons alone. I really have to go.” He turned and quickly walked down the hall and out of sight. Peter rolled his eyes and pulled the door to the loft shut with a loud clank.

***

Weeks after receiving his jacket back, Derek sat in the cool den. The temperature didn’t really bother him. Neither did the dim lighting. His mind was whirling and he couldn’t explain the feelings he was trying to suppress. The feelings of wanting to be near him. The feelings of wanting to protect him. To shield him from the harm of his own mind. To bear his troubles. To love him. Derek felt so lost, a feeling he hadn’t experienced since he lost his family, then again lost his sister. He wanted nothing to talk to his mother. He knew she would give him the answers he sought.

Derek never imagined that he could feel so strongly for the loud-mouthed, scrawny, annoying human. But seeing him so helpless had stirred something inside him. He became protective, feeling the need to always know what was going on with Stiles. To make sure he wasn’t hurting, physically or mentally. But he had resolved to wait for Stiles to make the first move so he didn’t seem needy. Something was holding Stiles back and Derek didn’t want to push him.

“I wish you were still here,” Derek groaned. He had never spoken about the pain he still felt when it came to his mother and losing her. He hid it deep down under the scowls and the glares. He became hardened. Everyone he had cared for he usually ended up losing, be it Paige or his family, or they stabbed him in the back, much like Kate Argent or Jennifer Blake. He figured the easiest way to live was to just not allow people in. They couldn’t hurt him more. That is, until the that loud-mouthed, scrawny, annoying human that made him count fingers. “You’d know what to say.”

He knew logically that she wouldn’t respond. She was gone, with nothing but memories to prove her reality. She couldn’t advise him or encourage him. But she loved him unconditionally during her time as alpha and mother. When his eyes changed to ice blue of a killer, she told them they were still beautiful. She understood him like no one else. He had been her favorite even if he was never going to be her successor as alpha. And now she was gone, and all that Derek was left with was questions with no answers. And all he wanted to do was hold Stiles in his arms again.

***

As Derek was driving back home, something caused him to swing past the high school. It was nearing the end of the school day and he felt the urge to see Stiles. He wanted to make sure he was still okay. He scanned the parking lot as he pulled in, not seeing the blue jeep anywhere. He parked in a far corner and sat watching the door. A stream of students started pouring out of the school soon enough. 

After the crowds settled down and disperse, eager to leave the grounds, Derek saw a lone figure sitting down on a bench, obviously waiting for their ride--Stiles. He was a wreck. His skin lacked the healthy glow it normally had. His eyes were encircled in dark, the lack of sleep obvious. He could understand why the Sheriff didn’t let him drive anymore, he’d be a danger to everyone, including himself. 

Derek longed to get out of the vehicle. Something from inside urging him to get out and comfort Stiles. But he fought it down. It wasn’t his place. He needed to give Stiles the space he wanted, no matter how it seemed to affect the both of them. After about 15 minutes, a cruiser pulled up and Derek tuned his hearing into listening to Stiles and his father, whether or not that was stepping over a boundary.

“Good day?” Sheriff asked.

Stiles appeared to yawn, “I guess.”

“Anything interesting?”

“Scott got detention for skipping second period. Apparently, Mr. Yukimura didn’t appreciate him convincing Kira to skip so they could make out or whatever.”

“Good grief. That boy. When will Scott ever learn? Do you want to do something? Maybe go to the diner like--”

“I just want to go home. Besides, it wouldn’t be healthy for you.” Stiles glanced up and make eye contact with Derek from across the lot. “Now please.”

Derek watched the cruiser leave the school and turn down the road. He probably crossed a lot of lines, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at this moment. After another five or so minutes, he too pulled out and headed back to the loft.

***

“Will you stop being so tragic? It really brings down the mood of this place more than the drabness of it.” Derek turned around to face Peter who had just descended down the spiral staircase in the corner and walked into the kitchen area of the loft. “Just go get your pitiful human and make the world right again. You can then stop moping about and I can get back to my life.”

Derek crossed his arms and leaned back against the counters of the kitchen. “I can’t. He doesn’t want me--”  
“Bullshit. That boy has always drooled over you. His infatuation with you is absolutely disgusting. You are so dense sometimes.”

“I didn’t give you a place to stay only for you to insult me. Besides if Stiles wants me, he’ll come and talk to me. I left that open to him.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “You both are so dense, and stubborn. You have to stop letting your damn pride get in the way. You’re too stubborn not to get hurt that you’re pushing away one of the first things that have made you happy since Paige...since the fire. And you are willing to throw that all away just because he ignored you. He is good for you, Derek. Even I can see that.”

“It’s not my choice.” Derek pressed.

“Of course not.” Derek could feel the sarcasm as Peter spoke. “You have perfected this martyr complex, that for sure. If you can’t do it for yourself, maybe do it for the wolf part of you. For your mate.”

“Mate?”

“God, you are so clueless. Do I have to teach you everything? Mates is nothing like the stories. The forces of the universe didn’t destine a certain person for you and you have to spend your life searching for that one person. It’s a choice to protect and love the other person unconditionally. You made that choice, whether you are aware of it or not.”

Derek looked at the ground, thinking about this information. It makes sense, obviously. “So what am I supposed to do about this? Stiles doesn’t want me”

More huffs from Peter. “He does want you. He just can’t admit it for some reason. You two couldn’t be more perfect for each other really. He is just as clueless as you are. Go find him. Talk to him. Before I kill you because I can’t stand this rut you are in.”

Derek sighed before grabbing his jacket and keys, walking out the door. Peter smirked. He was always right in the end.

***

**Derek:** Stiles

**Derek:** Meet me at the den in a half hour.

**Derek:** Please.

***

Derek sat on the hillside next to the den opening. He couldn’t actually know for sure if Stiles would show up, and if he would, if he could remember the way to the den. He really hoped Peter wasn’t making up the mate stuff just to make Derek actually do something. He sat with his arms resting on his knees and hands clasped. His head was drooped slightly, eyes closed, listening to the sound of the preserve. He was more than certain he’d hear Stiles before seeing him. And he was correct.

Several crashes and curses could be heard in the distance. It could only be the human, clumsy with his two left feet. Derek took a deep breath. It was now or never. He was running out of time to slip away. His heart was beating fast. Derek didn’t get nervous, but the raised heartbeat and sweaty palms said otherwise. 

“Goddamn stupid fucking roots.”

Derek smiled slightly as he lifted his head to peer around, trying to catch a glimpse of Stiles. He was always brash and spoke his mind. Something Derek wasn’t use to, but learning to enjoy the more he had gotten to know Stiles. He was fearless with his words, no matter how often it got him into trouble. He just never learned.

“Ouch! Of course. Of course, the tree would attack back.”

Stiles crashed into sight. A red line across his cheek from what appeared to be a branch that had smacked him. But the rest of his appearance was just as he had seen a few days before when he watched from the parking lot at the high school. Sleep deprived and pale. Stiles eyes locked onto Derek’s and the world stopped. No one wanted to speak first, let alone make the first move.

Stiles took a deep breath. “Why am I here?” He looked around impatiently, wishing to be home self-loathing in a downward spiral. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, unable to stay still, whether it was because he forgot his Adderall or because he was nervous, probably both.

Derek sighed and looked at his feet. “The purpose of an anchor for a werewolf is to remind him that he is still human. That even though there is a beast that could literally kill humanity, the anchor keeps them grounded, and not only that, will pull them back when they have gone too far. They won’t let the wolf drift, becoming a monster.”

“Yeah, I know. Deaton explained it. So did Scott. Pretty sure everyone has. Scott had Allison, Isaac had his father, you said you had your anger. What’s your point?”

“My point is I no longer think werewolves are the only ones who need anchors…”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to be dependent on someone who is only going to confuse me. I don’t want to feel in love with someone because I need them to survive,” Stiles cut in running his hands through his hair. 

Derek held his hand out for Stiles to take. The human stared at it like it was going to burn him if he touched it. After several long moments, he clasped Derek’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled down to sit next to Derek.

“It isn’t a dependency as you think,” Derek ran his hand up and down Stiles’ back, trying to calm his racing heart, both of their racing hearts. “It’s okay not to be strong. It’s okay to need someone. You can’t fight every battle alone.”

“I don’t want to lead you on. I don’t even know if how I feel is because I genuinely feel this way or because you are the first person to actually take all this shit seriously. The first person to believe me.”

Derek watched as Stiles rubbed at his eye. He gently removed Stiles’ hand and wiped at the tears that were escaping with his fingertips. “You’re the first person who has heard me laugh since the fire. I haven’t smiled as much as I have with you since I was able to be with my sisters. Am I selfish and dependent on you if I don’t want to lose that?”

Stiles shook his head no, sucking in a shuddering breath. 

“Then why are you so worried that you need me?”

Stiles scent suddenly changed. Nervousness and anxiety were sharp. Derek felt a hand on his cheek and Stiles turning his head. Lips were pressed against his and after a short second tried to pull away. Derek placed his hand on the back of Stiles’ head and pulled him back in. It was sweet and innocent. After a few moments, Derek released Stiles’ head and smiled at him.

“We’ll do this together. One day at a time. It’s okay.”

***

“Happy birthday!”

Stiles had opened the door only to be assaulted by the pack. They came pouring into his house and right into his living room. Stiles just stared after them, confused. He felt hands on his hips and turned his head back around to look at Derek. “Happy birthday,” Derek said as he tightened his arms around Stiles, hugging him from behind, and kissing the top of his head.

“Just because he’s now legal doesn’t mean I still won’t arrest you if I have too,” Sheriff said as he walked in past the couple carrying several boxes of pizza, more than what a normal group of six, seven if it included Stiles’ dad, should eat, but that normal group didn’t include two werewolves, one werecoyete, and an eighteen-year-old human garbage disposal.

It had only been nine months since their conversation in the woods. Derek had been right. Day by day, the door inside Stiles’ mind was closing. The nightmares didn’t stop completely, but the lessened. The hallucinations did. He could make it through fourth period without running to the bathroom to have a panic attack. Derek had been there every step of the way. Things were still strained with the other members, but slowly getting better. They probably would never be the same as they once were, the nogitsune made sure of that.

As the evening and the pizza dwindled, the pack left in small trickles until it was just Derek and Stiles sitting on the couch, watching the end of a movie.

“Derek, if you’re staying the night, it’s on the couch.” Sheriff said as he walked into the living room to clean up the empty cups and pizza boxes.

“Yes, sir--”

“Dad! It isn’t like Derek hasn’t slept in my bed with me before!’ Stiles butted in, glaring at his father.

Sheriff sighed as he straightened. “Yes, back when it was more innocent and it wasn’t with my newly legal son.” He walked into the kitchen which Stiles sat grumbling.

“Goodnight boys. Derek, remember what I said earlier.” Sheriff called over his shoulder a few minutes later as he made his way upstairs. 

Stiles continued to grumble, arms crossed across his chest.

“It isn’t fair! We’ve slept in the same bed loads of time and he didn’t care.”

Derek uncrossed Stiles’ arms and pulled the human into his chest. “Yes, but everything will be okay.” He used his hand to angle Stiles’ head upwards to kiss. “You’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot to post thanks to sickness but it's up! One more chapter after this and I don't think you guys are ready for it!


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles was tossing and turning in bed, unable to get comfortable. He was frustrated at his dad for kicking Derek out of his room. He just wanted his handsome slab of werewolf meat. In the middle his brooding he heard his door creak open. He sat up half expecting to see his dad checking on him, but it wasn’t. It was Derek. 

“I thought Dad banned you from my room?” He mumbled, falling back on his bed.

Derek chuckled, closing the door and walking over to the bed. “You’re dads asleep and has been for the past hour. I also could tell that you weren’t sleeping since to my ears, it sounds like your rolling a log back and forth.”

Stiles smirked. “Good. Then my signal worked.”

“What signal? You smell of frustration--”

“You mean sexual frustration.” Stiles interrupted with a wink.

Derek rolled his eyes and sat down on Stiles’ bed. “No, you idiot. I mean, you’re 18, so there’s probably that too, but just frustration with your dad. You reeked of it earlier. But what I was trying to say before I was rudely interrupted.” Derek gave a pointed look at Stiles, who closed his mouth and nodded. “I didn’t give you your gift.” 

Stiles turned his head slightly to the side. “My gift? You already gave me my gift. That triskelle pendant that was your mom’s. It survived the fire and it probably means a lot to you. Which if you gave it to me that must mean you’re pretty serious about me and--”

“Stiles. You’re an idiot. Just kiss me and you’ll see.” Derek sighed, rolling his eyes at his clueless, but trying too hard human.

Stiles' eyes went wide. “Oh. Okay. Yeah. We can do that. I’m down. Obviously.”

“Stiles. Shut up and kiss me.”

Derek leaned forward pressing their lips together softly at first, testing. It only took another heartbeat for Stiles to wrap his arms around Derek’s neck and pull him in closer. He was over-enthusiastic in his kiss and it showed. He kept accidentally clashing his teeth against Derek’s, after the third time he pulled away, laughing to himself.

“I’m not very good at-” Stiles began to speak.

“Stiles,” Derek cut him off and pulled him back in. Running his hand up Stiles' neck and into the back of his hair. He liked that Stiles had decided to grow it out, it looked good this way. Derek pressed soft kisses along Stiles jaw, up to his ear, his beard tickling the delicate skin there. “Calm down, we have time.”

A shiver ran up Stiles' spine, and he nodded into Derek’s touch. Derek wasn’t going anywhere, he was here with him now, they had time to enjoy each other, explore, learn each other. Stiles ran his hands excitedly over Derek’s shoulders. He pulled up at the shirt Derek was wearing. They hadn’t exactly planned for Derek to stay the night and Stiles clothing was too small on Derek as they had learned with the Miguel incident, so Derek had ended up borrowing the Sheriff’s Police sweatpants and t-shirt.

“Ya know, Derek, it’s a little hard to find you sexy when you’re wearing my dad’s clothes,” Stiles pulled up on Derek’s shirt again, hoping he would get the hint and fast.

Derek raised his eyebrows, giving Stiles that look of ‘did you really just say that’. But when Stiles was looking back at him, smiling and biting his bottom lip excitedly, he didn’t want to wait long to give the birthday boy his present.

He pulled back from Stiles and stood up, standing next to the bed he lifted his shirt over his head. Stiles would be lying if he said the show of Derek removing his shirt wasn’t almost as good as what was under it. His perfectly sculpted body, that had to be something supernatural.

“Holy shit,” Stiles muttered under his breath and scooted back on the bed so that Derek had more room to join him again. 

Derek dropped the shirt to the floor and crawled back onto the bed with Stiles. He placed one knee between Stiles' leg to straddle his thigh and hovered over his boyfriend. His fragile, strong, brave, beautiful human boyfriend. He would do anything to keep this young man safe.

Stiles ran his hands up Derek’s chest and over his shoulders, back down his arms. Just marveling at the fact that this was all his to admire and love. He tugged on the back of Derek’s neck bringing him down till their lips collided again. This time he was careful, gently running his tongue against Derek’s, reveling in his taste. The pressure of Derek’s knee between his legs caused him to jerk his hips up instinctively. Searching for any bit of friction he could get. No doubt Derek would be able to feel the growing hardness there. 

Derek pulled his mouth away from Stiles, the other whimpering at the loss of contact. His hand pushing up Stiles shirt until it got caught underneath his arms. That was enough for Derek to bury his face down into Stiles' chest. His teeth grazed lightly over one of Stiles nipples before he sucked it into his mouth.

Stiles yelped and quickly covered his mouth with the back of one of his hands. The other hand scratching on Derek’s shoulder. “Der,” Stiles moaned, arching his back up into Derek’s mouth. He needed him closer, he wanted that mouth to eat him whole. Stiles whined as Derek lifted off his chest with a pop.

“If you make so much noise, we're going to get caught,” Derek leaned forward and pressed a couple small kisses along Stiles jaw. He tugged harder on Stiles shirt till he was able to lift it up over his head and throw it to the floor to join his own clothes. 

Stiles shuddered at Derek’s words, reaching up trying to pull Derek back to him. He tangled his arms around the back of Derek’s neck and jerked his hips roughly, grinding against Derek’s thigh with everything he has. His mouth fell open but he tried his best to keep his moans just light breaths.

Derek fell back down on top of Stiles and could feel the youngers cock hard against him. He chuckled into Stiles’ hair. Stiles was always enthusiastic about everything he did. “Are you planning on coming without me,” Derek purred in Stiles' ear, guiding Stiles hips to slow down. 

“Feels good, Der,” Stiles sighed trying to calm down a little. He ran his hands through Derek’s hair and scratched lightly. “Best birthday present”

“Just wait,” Derek kissed Stiles jaw, then his neck, working his way down his chest. Stopping briefly to bite at Stiles naval, he reached the waistband of his mate’s pants. Stiles breathing stopped and Derek could hear his heartbeat racing. “I’m going to take these off, Stiles,” Derek tugged at the waistband a little, looking up at the younger man.

“Mhm” Stiles just nodded, this felt like a dream. He couldn’t quite believe what was happening but he didn’t want it to stop.

Derek sat up, watching Stiles reactions carefully. He tucked his fingers under the waistband of the pajama bottoms and wriggled them off Stiles slender hips, he lifted Stiles legs to pull them all the way off. Now Stiles lay before him fully naked and waiting for Derek to take care of him. Stiles cock, now exposed, twitched at the cold air, precum already leaking from his enthusiastic ride on Derek’s thigh. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles' thighs and yanked him down the bed till their groins were pressed together.

“No,” Stiles whined, “Not fair, I can’t be the only one naked, come on, show me what you’re hiding there” Stiles nodded to Derek’s crotch, biting his lip in excitement to see what his werewolf boyfriend was packing. 

Derek scooted back to remove his own sweatpants. Stiles propped himself up on his elbows to watch. “Holy shit,” Stiles mumbled, he had assumed Derek was big but seeing it was something else entirely. Stiles crawled forward and pushed Derek backward. 

“Stiles?” Derek asked, trying to sit back up. Stiles had crawled between Derek’s legs, staring at his cock. “You don’t have to do anything, I was going to take care of you”

“It’s my birthday,” Stiles interjected. “Let me have my present!” He smiled mischievously as he settled himself down between Derek’s legs. He talked big but it wasn’t like he had done anything like this before. But hell if that was going to stop him from taking what he wanted. 

Stiles wrapped a hand around Derek’s cock, stroking it experimentally a couple times before sticking his tongue out to lick the head. To his relief, it didn’t taste bad at all. He gave him a couple more kitten licks before lowering his mouth over him entirely. Letting all he could fit of Derek’s length fill his mouth. He was a bit disappointed it wasn’t like porn, he could hardly get half of Derek’s cock in his mouth before he had to stop and use his hand to stroke the rest.   
“You’re doing amazing Stiles,” Derek cooed, running a hand through Stiles' hair gently to soothe him. “Feels good”

Stiles felt like Derek was just saying that to comfort him, but he appreciated it anyway. He felt like he would know it felt good when Derek wasn’t able to speak anymore. Stiles bobbed his head up and down, letting his hand follow his rhythm. 

It was sloppy, and Stiles was drooling everywhere, but the way Stiles would flick his eyes up to look at Derek every now and again was so hot. He was doing everything in his power to not thrust up into that tight warm mouth. He didn’t want to scare Stiles, and Stiles' enthusiasm was doing more than enough for him. A bit too much. He suddenly started to feel really close.  
“Shit, Stiles,” Derek guided Stiles face up, his lips puffy and wet.

“Was it that bad?” Stiles asked nervously. Derek gently pulled Stiles up till their faces were close and he could kiss those pouty lips.

“No, you were doing amazing, too good” Derek laughed. 

Stiles smiled at hearing Derek laugh, it was such a rare sound, it comforted him. Being with Derek felt so easy and natural like every moment was always meant to happen so that when it did it felt like coming home instead of something new.

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist pulling the young man over him to straddle his hips. He nuzzled into Stiles' neck, kissing and nipping at that soft sweet skin.“You’re so good Stiles,” He muttered between kisses, running his hands along every part of Stiles back. “So good”

Stiles giggled wiggling in Derek’s arms. “Derek, your beard is tickling me,” However Stiles clung closer to him, not wanting him to even think about moving away.

Derek kissed up Stiles jaw until their lips met again. This kiss was so fluid, their mouths moving perfectly against each other. He lead Stiles back over to lay his head back on his pillow. “Now,” Derek looked over Stiles with half-lidded eyes. “Let me take care of you.”

Stiles nodded, licking his lips. “Uhh, Derek,” Stiles stammered slightly. “You know I’ve never done anything like this before, right?”

“I know, baby,” Derek kissed Stiles forehead tenderly. “I’ll take care of you”

Stiles brought his hands to run up Derek's abs. “There’s um… lube in my nightstand,” Stiles blushed, he couldn’t meet Derek's eyes while saying that. 

Derek sat up and reached over, opening the side table he pulled out the tube he found there and brought it next to them.

Stiles wiggled his ass a little bit of excitement, watching Derek pop the lid open and pour some of the slick liquid onto his hand. He rubbed it between his fingers trying to warm it up. “Oh my god Derek, come on,” Stiles opened his legs a little wide to illustrate his point.

“It’s cold,” Derek warned.

“And it will warm up once I have you inside me,” Stiles blurted without really thinking. A blush quickly flushing across his face and his ears. “I mean…”

Derek laughed softly again, such a relaxing sound. “I understand,” Derek put his hand down between Stiles' legs, circling the tight ring of muscle with his lube coated fingers before carefully pushing one inside of him. 

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut expecting pain, but it didn’t hurt, it felt different but no pain which was a relief. 

“Hows that feel baby?” Derek asked pulling the single finger in and out. 

“It’s fine, different, but I’m fine, you can add another,” Stiles sighed, allowing himself to take in the sensation when Derek slid his finger out it made his spine tingle a bit and he wanted more of that.  
Derek did just that. When he pulled his finger out he put another one alongside it. Stiles shuddered, if this already felt good he couldn’t wait to have the real thing filling him up. He didn't want to push Derek to move any faster though, Derek said he would take care of him and he wanted to let him do so. 

Stiles moaned and rocked his head back as Derek scissored his fingers inside him. “S’good” Stiles sighed, lifting his hips up to press into Derek’s hand.

Derek added a bit more lube to his fingers and pushed in a third finger. There was the pain Stiles had been expecting. Stiles scrunched his face and let out a soft whine. 

“Shh baby it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Derek whispered, running his clean hand through Stiles' hair, hoping the fact he was trying to draw the pain away went unnoticed. “Is it too much, do you want me to stop?”

Stiles shook his head quickly, it wasn’t unbearable, and he was sure it would go away in a bit.  
Derek nodded and moved his hand, pulling his fingers slowly out of Stiles body before working them back in at the same pace. He curled his fingers to try and find Stiles sweet spot, that spot of nerves that would make him forget his own name.

As Derek moved, Stiles got used to the feeling and the pain dissipated and Stiles arched his back up again to meet where Derek was thrusting his fingers. “Derek!” Stiles gasped quickly covering his mouth, hoping his dad didn’t hear him. Derek’s fingers had brushed a spot inside of him that turned that tingling in his spine to a full spike of electricity through his body.

Derek smirked, “Don’t worry, he’s still asleep, was that good?” Derek asked, his free hand running down Stiles' chest.

Stiles nodded vigorously, hoping Derek would continue.

Derek thrust his fingers in and out now with more precision to his that spot. Stiles held his hand tightly over his mouth with his eyes squeezed shut, little gasps escaping still. Stiles could feel the pressure building in the pit of his abdomen, his cock aching, ready to release at any second.

“Der, I’m gonna-,” Stiles whimpered.

Derek pulled his hand out of Stiles, wiping the lube on the bed sheets before leaning over his boyfriend to give him a soft kiss. “Not yet,” Derek whispered. Derek sat back, opening up the lube one more time, this time pouring some onto his own cock and stroking himself. 

Stiles opened his legs as far as he could comfortably do so. Anticipation running through his spine, his own cock twitching in excitement.   
Derek lined up his cock with Stiles hole, pushing at an agonizingly slow pace. He waited for Stiles body to give to him, not pushing the smaller man more than his body would accept. Carefully he was able to fill him up to the hilt, ready to draw pain if it was needed. Looking up at Stiles to check in on him. Stiles had his arms wrapped over his face, his heart pounding hard but it didn’t sound like pain to Derek.

“Stiles?” Derek asked, not moving till his lover told him he was okay. “How do you feel baby?”  
Derek ran his hands soothing over Stiles' thighs.

“S’big” Stiles mumbled under his arms. He lifted one arm to peek up at Derek who was staring down at him with such concern and love in his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that” Stiles whined covering his face.

“How should I look at you?” Derek leaned down, careful not to move much inside of Stiles and nuzzled his face along Stiles' chest.

Stiles lifted his arms to wrap them around Derek’s neck. The older lifting his head to meet his eyes finally. “It just feels very...full,” is the word stiles decided on fit best, it wasn’t pain, not so much discomfort either, he just felt very filled.

“I’m gonna move,” Derek said, lifting himself up off of Stiles' chest.

Stiles nodded and took a deep breath. Derek pulled back slowly, inch by inch until Stiles was nearly empty again, repeating the motion to fill him back up. 

“Breath, Stiles,” Derek whispered.

Stiles took another deep breath not realizing he had stopped when Derek had pulled out. Derek jerked his hips a little at the end, earning a small yelp from Stiles.

“Sorry,”

“No, its good, faster,”

Derek held onto Stiles' hips and thrust faster, the tight warmth was addicting. Maybe it was because it was Stiles but he had never felt this good with someone before. For once he didn’t feel like he was being used but like he was actually in love. Derek leaned back over Stiles leaning the youngers face up to kiss him.

Stiles could hardly kiss back, his mouth hanging open as he let out soft moans and whimpers against Derek’s lips. Stiles arched his back, wrapping his legs around Derek’s waist to pull him closer and deeper.

“More, Derek,” Stiles moaned, his hands clinging to Derek’s shoulders, he dug his nails into the skin there, unable to leave a scratch. 

Derek, put one hand on stiles hips to angle him and thrust hard, aiming to brush past that spot that had stiles so close to coming earlier. Stiles buried his face in Derek’s neck, trying to stop himself from screaming. The feeling shot through him like a lightning bolt, feeling so full and that spot being pressed as Derek thrust in and out, his head felt cloudy as he tried to communicate to Derek that is was good.

“Don’t stop,” Stiles managed to get out in between gasps against Derek’s skin. 

Derek moaned, leaning his face into Stiles' hair to smell him. His human smelled so intoxicating right now, all traces of pain or anxiety gone, everything was just begging to be fucked. Derek growled, jerking his hips harder, his werewolf claws threatening to dig into his delicate boyfriend. His grip itself would surely leave marks on that pale skin the next day.

Stiles' eyes rolled back as he felt overwhelmed with the sensations Derek was pouring into him. He was so close, he just needed…

“Der, touch…” Stiles babbled, trying to get the words out, he couldn't move his arms from the tight grip he had wrapped around Derek's shoulders. 

Derek snaked an arm between them, grabbing Stiles cock he began jerking him in time with their thrusts. Stiles yelped, wrapping his legs as tightly as he could around Derek. 

“Derek, ah, fuck, Der, I’m gonna come,” Stiles tried to warn but by the time he got the word out he was already spilling all over their chests. The tightness in his abdomen released all at once and he bit into Derek’s shoulder to muffle his scream.

Derek slowed down as to not over stimulate Stiles. He was about to pull out when Stiles wrapped his legs back around his waist.

“I wanna make you come,” Stiles sighed into Derek’s ear, and Stiles wriggled his ass a little to get Derek to move again.

Derek thrust just a few more times before he was spilling deep inside Stiles ass. Derek let out a quick sigh before lifting back to look down at his lover. Stiles had the coyest smirk on his face, satisfied in every aspect of the word. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Derek smiled leaning down to kiss the moles on Stiles' face.

“How should I look at you?” Stiles laughed running his hands through Derek's hair.

Derek pulled out of Stiles, and Stiles whimpered at the loss. Derek snuggled down next to Stiles and pulled him in close.

“Happy birthday,” Derek whispered, kissing the top of Stiles' head a couple times.

“I hope I can get that on other days too, not just my birthday,” Stiles laughed, closing his eyes and snuggling close to Derek.

***

“Am I your mate?” 

Derek blinked in the sunlight and rolled over to look at Stiles. His eyes were still shut as he was basking in the sunlight as they lay on the hill where the den was located.

“Have you been reading Wikipedia again when you should be sleeping?” Derek reached over and ruffled Stiles’ hair.

“No...okay well maybe. I get in downward spirals late at night. It’s interesting!” Stiles stuck his tongue out at Derek when he rolled his eyes. “I heard Peter say something a few weeks ago when we were in the loft.”

Derek rolled back onto his back. A few moments later he felt Stiles worm his way into his side, huffing when he finally landed in comfortable position with his head resting on Derek’s shoulder. “It’s not what you think it is. Some moon goddess or whatever fanfiction you are reading says it is that destines mates doesn’t exist. Mates happen because it’s a choice. I made a choice to love you. I made a choice to unconditionally love you. With that comes the protective instincts, the desire to see you happy no matter what, knowing that I would gladly give up my life to save yours. So yes, Mieczyslaw Stilinski, you are my mate and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! Thanks for joining me on this wild ride! Thanks to those who left kudos and comments! Sorry, I'm sometimes slow at responding but I don't live where I have internet unless I walk to where it is. Also thanks to my co-writer for writing the majority of this chapter since I cannot write smut to save my life! She also is pretty cool and read the story for concept decisions too. See you in the next fic, whenever that happens!


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